With my newfound damn-the-man attitude, I signed up for a class at the new Pure Barre studio. Pure Barre is like Bar Method or any of the other handful of ballet barre based exercise regimes. I didn't know what that meant but perhaps some of you do. The following thought synopsis explains why I chose to stomp through the snow to administer a little self-torture at 30 weeks.
- I need to get my ass in gear or I will die in childbirth like it's the Middle Ages. Buns, thighs, and a pelvic floor of steel can probably be achieved easily in the next 8 weeks with a simple and shockingly expensive workout routine.
- I have no energy. I'll potentially have more energy if I start working out... NOW. (I optimistically signed up for a second class prior to taking the first. Promptly cancelled.)
- I used to be a reasonably accomplished ballet dancer. Pure Barre will be just like ballet class and all the physical fitness and coordination I posessed when I was 16 will come flooding back. That happens. It's science. Especially during pregnancy.
I survived. Fetus survived. We went home and complained a lot. Then, crazy me, I had a restless night of shitty dreams where I worried about baby boy. Really, you shouldn't compress a fetus like that. I'm sure of it. I know that abdominal work is safe and encouraged but by god there are limits.
I bet you kids do Pure Barre all the time. I bet you were doing squats at the barre while you gave birth. Good for you. I've gotten a D+ on physical fitness during this pregnancy. I've made a real effort to go on walks and, like I boasted, have made it to 3 whole prenatal yoga classes. Whatever. I'm cooking a baby. I'm busy. Cutting myself some slack now.
*I have been losing clothing - specifically my forgiving yoga pants - throughout pregnancy. I have blamed my husband on several occasions. This is obvious sabotage!!! He thinks I'm nuts and I say he's bad at laundry management (he has 43 individual socks and none of them match). We're both right.
Several of you requested a bump photo. I decided to hire the most expensive photographer and stylist I knew. Sadly, it all fell through. Here's a photo of me in my office bathroom earlier this week, wearing a clip art lucha libre mask. Little known fact: I am really good at doing my hair.
|30 weeks. Viva la lucha.|